Left Behind
by stargazer626
Summary: Edmund's thoughts as he reflects on Peter's life-risking adventures. Movie-based, during the final duel. I do not own Narnia or anything in it which is why I'm writing this pointless sentence.


Has he ever thought of what he left behind? He always made sacrifices for the good of Narnia, but has he ever thought about what we would do without him? He is the sun in our solar system… the centre point of our family. Without him, we'd all fall apart. Did he ever think about that?

Susan is too gentle and too caring to tell him to his face. She will always smile and send him off with a 'Good luck' and never mention how her heart contracts in worry and anxiety.

Lucy is too innocent. She, too, only thinks of how her brother will win great battles and rescue Narnia again. The thought that he might never return never crosses her mind. How I long for her ignorant blissfulness…

I can't bear to tell him. I walk by his side, occasionally glancing at him, as he walks to what might be his death. I want to turn him around and shout at him, tell him that he is being stupid.

It isn't the fact that he is risking his life that matters to me. I know that he is trying to do what is best for Narnia, trying to make some people's lives easier. But he tears pieces out of my heart – and Susan's – every time he risks an adventure like this… he never thinks about our pain as we watch him daringly risk his life.

He looks so magnificent, fully armoured and carrying his sword. His shield with the rampant red lion blazes in the bright sun. Many envy my position of walking next to him.

But I don't want to walk next to him, always in his shadow. Because a shadow never has a face that Peter can see… because I am a shadow, he will never see my pain.

Miraz is waiting on the other side of the marble slabs. A metal mask covers his face, but I can see the glint of his eyes as he mocks Peter. I feel a surge of anger towards him. How dare he mock my brother?

Yes, I love my brother. I hate him as well. It's just the way it goes. It's complicated, like I told Miraz about how Peter was High King and I was King under him. It's hard to comprehend if you've never experienced it. But it's possible.

I long to say something to him, because I know that what I say might be the last word I ever say to him. But more than that, I want him to say something to me, because that might be his last 

words toward me. But without even a goodbye on his part, or a good luck on my part, he steps onto the combat ground.

"How many more must die?" Miraz snarls, his eyes glittering with amusement.

"Just one," Peter says darkly. He always was a fan of movie-hero quips.

A lump rises in my throat as Peter leaps toward Miraz, clashing his sword against the tyrant's shield. Everyone starts to cheer and jeer as the battle progresses. I watch silently. I pray to Aslan.

And so the battle continues for awhile…

A wince mars my still face as Miraz stamps hard on Peter's shield. A twisted cry rips from my brother's throat as his wrist bears the pain of the stamp. But soon he is on his feet again, and Miraz, who has fallen, is getting up slowly.

"A reprise, Your Highness?" he asks mockingly. My hands clench into fists.

Peter just looks at him for a moment, and then answers, "Five minutes."

Miraz's eyes gleam in triumph and he blazes, "Three."

As the usurper walks away, a twisted grimace of pain distorts my brother's features. I watch as Trumpkin and Glenstorm support him back to where I am standing.

Glenstorm fetches Peter's helmet, and puts it aside. Peter sits down heavily and I hover over him, at a loss for what to say.

"What do you think happens at home, if you die here?" he asks hopelessly.

My mouth opens slightly and I step closer to him. His face is red and he cries out as I pull the shield off his wrist.

Then he looks up at me in anguish, and says, "You've helped me a lot over this time and I didn't appreciate it until—

He half-screams in pain as his arm is wrenched forward. I'm not sure how that happened. I think I may have twisted it in shock, or maybe in revenge.

"Save it for later," I say, and walk over to Glenstorm.

Later, as Peter prepares to join battle with Miraz again, I proffer his helmet. He waves it away without even looking at me.

I hope I didn't offend him, because I fear once again that he will not return. It would be horrible to watch him die and know that I offended him in his last moments of life.

I shake my head violently to rid myself of such thoughts.

And so I watch the battle again as Peter proves his worth in swordsmanship.

At one point Miraz, on his knees, holds up his hands and says breathlessly, "Respite."

Peter holds back and walks away. "This is no time to be chivalrous, Peter!" I yell, but he barely pays me any attention – like usual.

Susan and Caspian, who have returned, share a disgusted look. Caspian's face is disbelieving, although he ought to know how knightly Peter can be by now. Susan just looks resigned, and looks over at me with a twisted smile.

I don't see that smile, or that look, because just then Miraz stands up alarmingly fast. "Watch out, Peter!" I shout, my heart jumping to my mouth.

Peter just manages to avoid the onslaught and the duel grows in intensity.

Finally my brother, the High King, takes Miraz's own sword and drives it through his stomach. Miraz is driven to his knees and he gasps for air.

"Are you too cowardly to take my life?" he asks Peter.

Peter stares down at him, but doesn't take the bait. "It's not mine to take," he snaps and gestures to Caspian with a jerk of his head.

Then he picks up his sword and walks slowly toward Susan and me.

We both just stare at him for the longest time.

Susan finally moves to embrace him, and he responds likewise. But I cannot speak for rage. How can he just ignore the fact that we need him, that he needs to stop his reckless risks?!

"Ed?" Susan prompts. Peter waits silently, looking at the floor.

"Do you have any idea of what it's like to stand and watch as you risk your life?" I hiss.

Peter glances up at me, and a look of worry passes over his blue eyes. It's at that moment that I throw myself at him.

A sob racks my shoulders and my brother holds me gently. "I'm sorry, Edmund," he whispers in my ear. "I'm so sorry."

My head nestles in the crook of his shoulders for awhile. Then I step out of his arms and smile.

Then Susan gasps in shock as Caspian throws his sword at the kneeling Miraz. Peter and I spin around.


End file.
